If suicide be supposed a crime, it is only cowardice can impel us
to it. If it be no crime, both prudence and courage should
engage us to rid ourselves at once of existence when it becomes a
burden. It is the only way that we can then be useful to
society, by setting an example which, if imitated, would preserve
every one his chance for happiness in life, and would effectually
free him from all danger or misery.
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Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
read more
Britannia's shame! There took her gloomy flight,
On wing impetuous, a black sullen soul . . .
Less base the fear of death than fear of life.
O Britain! infamous for suicide.
Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit."
Suicide is man's way of telling God, "You can't fire me - I quit."
But if there be an hereafter,
And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd
And suffer'd to speak out, read more
But if there be an hereafter,
And that there is, conscience, uninfluenc'd
And suffer'd to speak out, tells every man,
Then must it be an awful thing to die;
More horrid yet to die by one's own hand.
Suicide sometimes proceeds from cowardice, but not always; for cowardice sometimes prevents it; since as many live because they are read more
Suicide sometimes proceeds from cowardice, but not always; for cowardice sometimes prevents it; since as many live because they are afraid to die, as die because they are afraid to live
Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow read more
Anyone desperate enough for suicide...should be desperate enough to go to creative extremes to solve problems: elope at midnight, stow away on the boat to New Zealand and start over, do what they always wanted to do but were afraid to try.
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
He
That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it,
And, at the best, shows but a bastard read more
He
That kills himself to avoid misery, fears it,
And, at the best, shows but a bastard valour.
This life's a fort committed to my trust,
Which I must not yield up, till it be forced:
Nor will I. He's not valiant that dares die,
But he that boldly bears calamity.
Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
read more
Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
Duty requires we calmly wait the summons,
Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
read more
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?
